


for I am a bold deceiver

by sabinelagrande



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Enthusiastic Consent, First Time, M/M, Penis Size, Temptation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-07
Updated: 2019-07-07
Packaged: 2020-06-23 19:46:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19708189
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sabinelagrande/pseuds/sabinelagrande
Summary: Crowley wants something from Aziraphale, but doesn't he always?





	for I am a bold deceiver

Crawly doesn't actually have sex with Eve. There's just no call for it; he is still mostly a snake, and he has a job to do. This is during the very short period where getting the job done, promptly and under his own power, is a thing that matters to him. What doesn't matter is how the story of the snake gets told; if people want to ascribe more sexuality than actually took place, that's their prerogative. 

This is not to say that Crawly, later Crowley, doesn't have sex with people; sometimes he's even a snake. He's a demon, and temptation is both in the job description and just plain enjoyable. 

And here's the thing about temptation and damnation: you don't actually need to follow through. Sinning in thought is a sin, as much as sinning in deed. Crowley does all his best work by never really sealing the deal, with blanket offensives and tantalizing suggestions. If he can make someone fall through the force of entropy, then so much the better.

He'd follow through for Aziraphale, and he's trying to figure out how to express that.

He tempts Aziraphale all the time, little bits of poison dripped into his ear. However, he is an angel, and he doesn't fold like a human will. Crowley is chipping away at him over time, but it's slow going. If Crowley were a little more self-aware, he'd recognize that Aziraphale is also eroding Crowley, but he's not, thank you very much, so he won't. 

But it seems fundamentally- not wrong, wrong would be fine, but unsporting? Disrespectful? To just act like this is some mortal that he's attempting to ruin. Aziraphale deserves better than that. He deserves to have some kind of volition in the process.

When Crowley does need to seal the deal, he finds himself thinking of soft white hair and sumptuous meals. He's sure other demons do much worse.

It's the early twentieth century, and Aziraphale has mostly forgiven him for the holy water thing; Crowley suspects that he hasn't forgotten, but that makes two of them. Crowley has only been thinking about having sex with him for a few hundred years, but the period's fashions suit him more than usual. He could wear a burlap sack and Crowley would still want him, but that's not the point.

Anyway, the point is that Crowley has waited long enough.

Crowley usually just shows up when he wants to see Aziraphale, but he's going for a more polished look this time. Instead, he sends a letter to the shop, on paper and everything, inviting him to a specific room at a specific hotel at a specific time.

Aziraphale, of course, shows up on the dot, and he even knocks on the door to be let in.

"This is unusual," he says, as Crowley steps back to let him in. 

Aziraphale immediately spots the table, all laid out; one of the places is set with a bottle of wine and a glass, but the other has a meal that Crowley reckons is pretty scrumptious, as these things go.

"I bought you dinner," Crowley says.

"That was very thoughtful of you," Aziraphale says, and Crowley appreciates how he doesn't say "nice" or "kind" instead. "What's the occasion?"

"None in particular," Crowley says, though he's not even sure Aziraphale is listening.

"Is that vichyssoise?" Aziraphale says, promptly sitting at the table. Crowley puts a hand on his shoulder, reaching over and flicking his napkin open. Aziraphale tucks it into his collar, and Crowley takes a seat as he descends on the food.

Crowley finds food largely uninteresting, but he takes plenty of pleasure in watching Aziraphale eat. He sips his wine as Aziraphale eats intently, watching as the food passes between Aziraphale's lips. The way he behaves is practically pornographic, letting out little moans at particularly good bites. He's so intent and so thorough, and Crowley intends to find out very soon whether that translates to putting other things in his mouth.

After all, being so in love with food as an angel is just a highly refined oral fixation. 

Eventually, Aziraphale finishes the meal, and Crowley finishes watching him, at least for the moment.

"What are you playing at?" Aziraphale asks, dabbing the corners of his mouth with his napkin. 

Crowley runs a finger around the rim of his wine glass. "I don't know what you mean."

"You got me all alone and set out a delectable spread," Aziraphale says. "It seems like you're angling for something."

"And what if I am?" Crowley says.

Aziraphale sighs. "I do wish you'd just say it."

"That doesn't seem like me," Crowley says. "I prefer finesse."

"I really don't think you do," Aziraphale replies. 

Crowley leans in. "What if I offered you a new temptation?"

Aziraphale's neck works as he swallows. "I think I'd know if your lot made any advances."

"It's definitely not new to creation in general," Crowley says, slouching even more blatantly in his chair. "It'd just be new to us."

"We've already done quite a lot," Aziraphale says.

"Come on, angel," Crowley purrs. "One more little thing can't hurt."

"I can't possibly know that," Aziraphale says. "What if you wanted me to kill someone, or, or harm a child, or drop someone in the ocean-"

"You're really thinking about this too hard," Crowley says with a frown.

Aziraphale is now fully panicking. "I don't know what reaction you expected when you just came in here and-"

"What I'm trying-" Crowley cuts in, then he heaves a sigh. "Look, do you want to fuck or not?"

There is a pause.

"Oh," Aziraphale says.

"Yes," Crowley says. 

"With you?" Aziraphale says.

Crowley raises an eyebrow. "Preferably."

"Me?" Aziraphale says, almost a squeak.

"I'm not going to do it with myself," Crowley says. "That's so _boring_."

"Do you really think we should?" Aziraphale says, leaning forward, and Crowley realizes that it's the exact tone of voice he uses when he wants a third eclair but thinks it would be naughty of him. 

"Go on, then," Crowley says, because it's exactly what he'd say in that situation. "What can it hurt?"

"What kind of genitals should I have?" Aziraphale asks excitedly. 

"Whatever kind you like, really," Crowley says, still a little dumbfounded that this is working. "I'm easy."

"I'm going to try a penis," Aziraphale says, looking pleased with himself. 

"Makes your trousers drape better," Crowley says. "So you've never done this, then?"

Aziraphale looks like he doesn't quite understand the question. "No one's ever offered."

Based on this conversation, Crowley thinks it's entirely possible that people have offered and Aziraphale just missed the invitation. "Oh, I'm offering."

Aziraphale puts his napkin firmly on the table. "How do we start?"

Crowley rises from his chair, sauntering over and holding out a hand. "Let me show you."

Aziraphale pushes back from the table but doesn't stand, so Crowley pulls him onto his feet and catches him. They've been in close proximity before, but nothing like this; it feels very different to have Aziraphale pressed against him with intent.

Crowley presses their lips together immediately. Aziraphale doesn't respond for a moment, so Crowley snakes an arm around his waist, pulling him tighter. Aziraphale gasps, but he seems to kick into gear. He starts kissing back then, opening his mouth to let Crowley's tongue in. Crowley wants to swallow him whole; he's been examining him so minutely for so many years, and the wholeness of him is something else entirely, something that transcends his parts.

His hand moves down Aziraphale's back, and Aziraphale makes a surprised noise as Crowley grabs his ass. It seems like a good surprise, if the way Aziraphale puts his arms around Crowley's neck and pulls him down urgently is any indication. 

Crowley walks them backwards; he's not sure Aziraphale even notices, but Crowley is capable of groping and walking at the same time. He leads the way through the sitting room and to the bed. He'd be happy to do it right over the table, but Aziraphale seems like the sort to do it in a comfortable sort of way.

He gently but firmly pushes Aziraphale onto the bed; Aziraphale lands on his elbows, propped up and staring at Crowley with a look of wonder. Crowley crawls on top of him immediately, his knees on either side of Aziraphale's hips. He looks delicious spread out like that, and he doesn't even have his shirt off yet.

There is, however, something located in Aziraphale's trousers that's pressing up against Crowley's personal area. "Got something for me, do you?" he says, grinding down against him.

"Would you like to see it?" Aziraphale says.

"Of course," Crowley says, moving back a little to make room, and Aziraphale eagerly works his trousers open.

Crowley just stares for a moment.

"Uh," he says. "Well, that's one way to do it."

Aziraphale looks down at himself. "Is it too much?"

"Perhaps a few centimeters shorter, though the girth is fine," Crowley says. The girth is actually quite a lot, but he's no coward. He wants to _feel_ this, know it's happening, undeniable, so it seems like just the thing.

"Then just let me-" Aziraphale says, and his anatomy settles into a more appropriate size.

"Better," Crowley says, and Aziraphale lets out the best little gasp when he wraps a hand around it, stroking slowly. His skin is cool, like marble, and it offsets the warmth Crowley puts off. 

"What are you proposing to do?" Aziraphale says. "I'm aware there are multiple, ah, configurations, as it were, and I wouldn't want us to misunderstand each other."

"Don't worry about it, angel," Crowley says, kissing his neck. "You just lay right there, and I'll show you everything."

Aziraphale strains up, kissing him, and Crowley kisses back eagerly, running his hand through Aziraphale's hair in exactly the way he's wanted to for so long. It's just as soft under his fingers as he expected, almost like down.

Crowley is briefly distracted as his clothes disappear, sunglasses and all. He pulls away to look at Aziraphale. 

"I didn't want to have to move," Aziraphale says.

"Oh no, I'm not complaining," Crowley says. He puts a hand on Aziraphale's chest, his fingers parting the smattering of wiry white hair there. He can't resist taking another kiss, but then he sits back. "Would you like to-"

"I would like to do a great many things," Aziraphale says. Crowley bites his lip as he takes Crowley's cock into his hand, stroking it experimentally. 

"Like this," Crowley says, putting a hand over Aziraphale's and adjusting his grip. "Mm, that's it."

"Do you like it, my dear?" Aziraphale asks.

Crowley feels a pleasant tingle at his tone; it feels like silk trailing against his skin, sumptuous. "Oh, yes," he says. "Ready for a little more?"

Aziraphale licks his lip, with a look on his face like Crowley is coated in chocolate and garnished with strawberries. "Yes, please."

Crowley kneels up, putting distance between them. He does a filthy little miracle, of the type that Hell approves, and positions himself in just the right spot. The head of Aziraphale's new equipment is broad, almost intimidatingly so, but Crowley's not going to back down now. It takes a little doing to get started, but the head breaches him, making him gasp in a way he'd deny he ever does. 

Aziraphale isn't even breathing.

Crowley sinks down slowly, sighing, savoring the feeling; Aziraphale's cock stretches him out, in the best possible way. He doesn't get to do this much, and he's never gotten to do it with Aziraphale, and the combination is intense. 

"Oh," Aziraphale says softly. "Oh, dear."

"People usually scream," Crowley offers, a bit disappointed not to have gotten a stronger reaction.

"It's quite overwhelming," Aziraphale says, still looking dazed. 

Crowley starts moving on him, and Aziraphale's eyes flutter shut. He looks transported, which is a little more like Crowley wanted. It's only then that he realizes he's been thinking of this completely backwards. What's going to do Aziraphale in one of these days is his hedonism. He's an aesthete first and an angel second, and Crowley should have realized that he would jump at the chance to try a new pleasure. 

That or all those drops of poison are working, and he doesn't know which he prefers. 

"Does that feel good?" Crowley asks, needing some kind of feedback.

"Oh, darling," Aziraphale says, with a smile spreading on his face. "It feels _wonderful._ "

Crowley moves faster, bringing to bear every trick that he knows; Aziraphale deserves only the best. It seems to be working, because Aziraphale grabs his hips, moaning at last. Crowley only gives him more, and his fingers tighten. Crowley groans at the force of it, the idea that Aziraphale will leave bruises on him, give him something to take away from this bed.

Aziraphale still has that look on his face, and it's nothing like Crowley expected and everything he should have. Of course this is how Aziraphale would take it; of course he's taken this and turned it into something lovely. 

It makes Crowley's skin crawl a little bit, but it also feels like something blooming in his chest.

"I-" Aziraphale says, panting. "I think-"

"Yes?" Crowley says, winding his hips.

"I think I- I'm-"

"Say it for me," Crowley says.

"I'm going to come," Aziraphale says, and Crowley groans.

"Yes," Crowley hisses, fucking himself wildly. "Yes, do it."

Aziraphale cries out, bucking up into Crowley, and Crowley can feel it inside him. He doesn't come himself, but it's a very near thing. He has an entirely different kind of satisfaction, seeing Aziraphale come undone underneath him. He thought maybe he'd feel triumphant, a conqueror, a defiler, but that's not how he feels at all.

Aziraphale has gone boneless on the bed, looking for all the world like a cat that's just eaten a bird. Crowley can't keep himself from bending down and kissing him; his whole body is thrumming, but he can wait for just a moment, enough time for Aziraphale to come down.

"But you didn't," Aziraphale says, running his hands up Crowley's thighs.

"Would you care to fix that?" Crowley asks.

"What should I do?" Aziraphale says.

Crowley reaches out and rests his thumb on Aziraphale's lower lip. "What do you want to do?"

Aziraphale licks his thumb, and Crowley almost comes right then.

Crowley has some choices, but he climbs off of Aziraphale; Aziraphale follows him immediately, kissing him as he pushes him down onto the bed. Aziraphale moves down his body, looking at Crowley like he's a feast. Crowley swears loudly as Aziraphale takes Crowley's cock into his mouth, sucking enthusiastically. Crowley puts a hand on the back of Aziraphale's head, urging him on, not that he needs it.

It's not long that Crowley lasts, but he's okay with that. Aziraphale swallows him down, still sucking until Crowley guides him back. Aziraphale lays down beside him; Crowley had every expectation that Aziraphale would cuddle immediately and emphatically, and when he doesn't, Crowley pulls him close, putting a proprietary leg over him.

"Oh, I must have gotten carried away," Aziraphale says, running a hand over Crowley's hip; there are a few small marks there, and Crowley looks at them with a deep sense of satisfaction. "Please, allow me-"

"Don't you dare," Crowley says.

"Alright, then," Aziraphale says, looking a little confused. He settles into the bed, putting an arm around Crowley's waist. "Next time, I'm going to try a vagina."

"Very good, vaginas," Crowley says. "Big fan."

"Thank you," Aziraphale says, softer, running his finger along one of Crowley's curls.

"No, thank _you_ ," Crowley says.

This is where humans fall asleep, where they make excuses or have regrets. Crowley is not human, so he does none of that. Instead, he rests his chin on the top of his angel's head, stroking his back. Aziraphale makes a contented noise, cuddling in closer.

Crowley thinks of banquets and wonders what to do next.


End file.
